


Forgive Me, Father, For I Have Sinned (Confession)

by MidknightMasquerade



Category: Radiata Stories
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessional, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Mentor-Pupil Relationships, Olacion Order, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidknightMasquerade/pseuds/MidknightMasquerade
Summary: When Miranda is offered the opportunity of manning the confessional for one day, she finds a shameful and shocking lack of sincerity amongst the congregation's confessions. Yet, perhaps hope can be found in the prayers of one the world would least expect.





	Forgive Me, Father, For I Have Sinned (Confession)

**Author's Note:**

> The religion in Radiata Stories? It is as interesting as it is undeveloped, so creative liberties abound here. A majority of the references here come from modern-day Roman Catholicism, as that seems to be what the concept for the Olacion Order spawned from. If there are inaccuracies with the game lore or with Catholic traditions, I apologize. As a Non-Denominational Christian, I am not exceedingly familiar with the entirety of the Catholic church's traditions.

"Confess thy trespasses to one another that ye may be purified. The effective, fervent prayer of the righteous shall availeth much."  
_Gospel of Saint Celesta 5:16_

\---

How many times had she heard that scripture? How long had her lips formed those same syllables during every late night sermon and early morning ministry? How ardently did she desire to follow in the footsteps of the saints, despite the sacrifice required?

Yet, here she stood, prepared to practice what she preached, completely incapable of moving a muscle.

"Ease yourself, disciple. There is no pressure to put on a perfect performance, for me or for Our Lady Etherea," the High Priest advised. The radiance of the cathedral in the early mornings caused his soft smile to shine all the more lustrously in the light. "Simply listen to them, Miranda. Comfort them. Soothe their troubled souls. You have healed the bodies of many a wounded man - now it is time to heal their hearts, as well." In that moment, with compassion creasing his brow, Kain seemed all the kinder, if such a thing were possible; kind and encouraging and...and somehow hopeful, somewhere behind those war-worn eyes. "You can do this. You _need_ to do this - for yourself, and for them."

Standing outside of the confessional booth now, she wasn't so sure. _You can do this, Miranda. Master Kain said that you can do this, that you_ need _to do this_. Somehow, the words lost their luster when not uttered by another.

All that had been asked of her was to receive the confessions of repentant sinners desiring to come home to the order of Olacion once more; that and the priests making their rounds, repenting of vices they surely would succumb to as soon as they left these hallowed halls. Simple, yes, but not easy.

Still, she sought not escape. If Master Kain entrusted her with this honor, the blessings of Masters Achilles and Godwin bestowed upon her, then she feared no evil.

But oh, how she prayed for success in her struggle.

With a shaky breath and a whispered prayer, Miranda stepped inside the confessional booth.

_And may the gods have mercy on my soul._

\---

Many a man and woman entered that room, weary with the weight of their grief and anger. Some spoke of pain -- of lost children and shattered dreams. Others whispered of fears -- of war and Algandars. And there were those who wished away their strife and suffering, who begged the gods as though they were genies, to grant them the lives of wealth and luxury they rightfully deserved.

Yet was there no one who prayed for repentance? None who sought reconciliation with Celesta? Did any exist who desired sanctuary with their Lady Etherea?

Was there not a single vice-less soul in this once-innocent city of sin?

Only an hour remained until the rising of the moon signaled the end of her shift. Yet, in the entirety of her time inside this one-way window into the hearts of humanity, not one solitary follower spoke with any conviction!

Fernando offered the gods his rage, but bumping into Anastasia outside afterwards proved his repentance momentary. Dwight's plea for funding seemed awfully insincere when his smilodon medicine had made the confessional smell like a bloodied mutt. No one could take Eugene's apologies for alcoholism seriously when his breath reeked of beer, Lulu gossiped more than she gave thanks, and even Alvin's offering seemed self-seeking.

Could there not be one pure of heart? Had such humans been lost in this ever-changing world? Or had they never really existed at all, living only in fairy tales?

"Forgive me, Father, for ah've sinned."

The words shook Miranda from her mental reverie. Had someone entered without her noticing? Goodness! She really ought to get a grip, lest this training be for naught. Refocusing herself, she noticed the speech seemed...somehow strange to her. The words didn't flow well, an accent cluttering the common script. For most, she assumed it might've been an embarrassment to their traditional confession. Miranda found it refreshing -- something to break up the monotonous repetition of unmeant admissions.

Still, she listened.

"Ya see, I...I fear ah've failed ya, Father. I don't know if I can keep up with these here city slickers. They all look so, so fancy! What with their robes and their spells and all that shiny jewelry. Ah wish I could help people like they can, but ah dunno if I could." A pause. A sniffle. A withered exhalation. "I'm tryin' mah best, I promise! Ahm readin' the scriptures every day, just like Flora told me I ought to! And ah've been prayin' mornin', noon, and night to try and get y'all's approval, but ah...ah can't tell if yer there...if yer happy with me. Ah just wanna make ya proud, Papa..."

And then, stillness. For a second, silence saturated the empty space between this confessor and she who heard his hopeful plight. 

Her hand rose to her heart, clutching at the broach that fastened her cloak. _Perhaps, there is still hope_. It might not sound sweet, it might not look attractive, but potential is determined not by what is pleasing to the eye, but what is purifying to the spirit. Maybe salvation could be found even at the so-called bottom of the barrel.

"Our Lady Etherea forgives you. Our Lord Celesta forgives you. And so, too, do I. Go, and sin no more."

A breath of relief from the other side of the confessional. "Thank goodness! Ah was worried the gods mighta given up on me." Just as the door on the other side of the wall opened, Miranda swore she heard one final word of supplication. "Ah...ah can do this! I know I can!" 

And then Miranda was all alone, with only her own sin to swear to the heavens above.

That night, for the first time since...well, long since she should have done so, Miranda knelt at the foot of the altar and offered her apologies for the impurities she knew not had existed within her, now exposed in the light of an unknown follower. It was there, seated inside of a crumbling confessional, that Miranda swore she heard the words from on high she always longed to listen to:

"I, Lady Etherea, forgive you.  
Your Lord Celesta forgives you.  
Now go, and sin no more.

You can do it, dearest daughter, in whom I am well-pleased."

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought that I would be investing time into supporting Clive of all characters, yet here I am. I'm finding him much more tolerable this time through the game. I apologize if his accent became difficult to read - I'm not exactly from the country, so I took my best guess at some of the dialogue.
> 
> For those wondering, the "scripture" used at the beginning of this story is based on the (N)KJV version of James 5:16 from the Bible.


End file.
